A valet stands at the iron-gated entrance to Benu, marked only with a small sign, greeting diners and leading them from Hawthorne Lane into the enclosed encampment of the San Francisco restaurant.

On the right is a kitchen sequestered behind floor-to-ceiling windows, gleaming like a satchel of diamonds, with white tile, polished stainless steel and a cadre of chefs in jackets so vibrant they could be used for a Clorox commercial.

The valet escorts diners past the outside view of the kitchen and into a patio - a checkerboard of concrete and manicured grass interspersed with benches and five perfectly symmetrical Japanese maples. As diners walk up the stairs to the restaurant, the door glides open, courtesy of a host who graciously greets each party.

The dining room exudes the tranquillity of a Japanese teahouse, sleek and minimal. White walls and gray banquettes create a subdued neutral palette. Structural support beams cross near the rear of the restaurant, looking like a modern sculpture.

Tables, generously spaced and cloth-less, are made of black resin-like material trimmed in light wood. The 66-seat dining room is serene, modulated by the subdued buzz of conversation. It appears everyone got the memo, because not a single diner defies the apparent black, white, gray and beige dress code.

This pared-down minimalism - no tablecloths, flowers or much art on the wall - is becoming the new definition of luxury. Instead of the finery of a decade ago, chefs are spending their money on showcasing the food.

The bare walls and soft lighting, more flattering to the food than to the diners, draws all eyes to the plates meticulously crafted by Corey Lee. The chef-owner was at the French Laundry for eight years, the last four as chef de cuisine, before opening Benu in August.

Some continue to make comparisons between Benu and the French Laundry, but Benu is a very different restaurant. The food looks east for inspiration, perhaps paying homage to Lee's Korean heritage.

Lee offers an a la carte menu with 16 savory dishes divided into four categories. Prices for the smaller courses range from $10 to $18; the seafood and poultry courses start at $24 and generally top out at $32. Most people will need to order at least three courses to be satisfied.

12 courses for $160

The 12-course tasting menu is $160 and includes some dishes from the a la carte menu and some that are created for the tasting. Wine pairings can add $110 more a person, depending on the menu, so with tax and tip you can easily spend more than $300 a person.

It's hard to describe Lee's handiwork. He employs so many components, unfamiliar ingredients and cutting-edge techniques that each dish requires a diner's total concentration.

The first dish to arrive on one visit was a cool dashi broth with a single peeled tomato, an "egg yolk" of tomato water, a scattering of herb blossoms, a single chervil leaf and an orange nasturtium petal. The dish pinged every sense: the cool pop of tomato, the gush of liquid from the enclosed yolk, the herbal pop of the flowers.

As you move further into the tasting menu, the flavors get even more complex.

You'll find a "1,000-year-old" quail egg served in a spoon and accented with a fresh hit of ginger and scallion. Lee makes an anchovy gelee and cuts it into perfect squares that glisten like polished amber, accenting them with a few peanuts and lily buds, tiny leaves of cilantro and curls of red chiles.

He's found a way to replicate the brittle yet elastic texture of shark's fin by making an intense broth and adding a hydrocolloid such as locust bean gum. He then squeezes the thick liquid into cold water, which sets it in fine threads. These become the star of a Chinese-inspired soup where the mahogany broth is filled with hunks of crab, cabbage and ham that cover a black truffle custard.

The chef produces a modern version of Eight Treasure Duck, where the meat is rolled around foie gras, duck confit, gizzards, black truffle, gingko and goji berries and encased in crispy skin. He cuts it in two and presents it on a black plate dusted with flakes of gold leaf, the eighth treasure.

Dry-aged lamb ($30) is accented with fleshy gingko nuts and milt, a Japanese delicacy made from cod sperm, made into fritters and garnished with yuzu, tiny leaves of romaine for crunch, and creamy horseradish, creating two sublime bites.

Lee changes one or two dishes every night, so there are always a few surprises. As at the French Laundry, portions are small, and if you get absorbed in conversation the intricacies of what's on the plate will pass you by. Eating at Benu becomes an intellectual as much as a sensual experience.

Unlike a plate of pasta, where the flavor builds and reveals itself over the course of a dozen or so bites, Lee's food is precise, and even the single leaf of chervil or the dab of plum sauce becomes an integral part of the dish. He might offer a pasta, but his version is consumed in four or five perfect bites of something like an al dente rigatoni, black with squid ink fortified with karasumi (salted and dried mullet roe) and served with trimmed artichoke hearts and bits of spicy sausage, bright yellow lemon zest and a few well-placed mizuna leaves. His risotto, an uncharacteristically generous portion if you order it a la carte ($28), is flecked with black truffles, celery and butternut squash, and topped with custard-like lobes of sea urchin.

Lee has designed each plate - the ingredients and presentations - to show off his food. To start, he serves thin buckwheat and nori wafers that stand erect in a specially designed box. The thin, delicate knives and forks, which have five tines, rest on smooth, polished orbs of dark wood. At the close of the meal, a wood jewel box displays four delicious chocolates on different levels. One might be filled with walnuts or berries; another might combine white chocolate and green tea.

Lee's desserts are just as intricately constructed. Miniature rectangles of chestnut custard with a quenelle of black truffle ice cream are topped with a long strip of crisp pastry and interspersed with circles of meringue and dices of apples. Many contain both sweet and savory ingredients. He might do an intermezzo of sweet rice sorbet with pine-needle-infused honey. On another visit he made an intense apple sorbet and placed it on a puddle of yogurt with a dollop of chopped nicoise olives for a rich salty element. Usually these savory/sweet blends leave me cold, but here they are finely balanced and show the mastery of the kitchen.

Seamless service

Service is relaxed, but seamless and as meticulous as the food. The waiters know the menu and are adept at guiding diners through the process. On one of the four visits, my dining companion needed to be out in about 2 1/2 hours. A full tasting menu generally takes at least an hour longer, but the staff proposed a modified version and selected wines to match.

Yet for everything Benu has to offer, it's an experience that might not appeal to everyone. One reader wrote me after a recent dinner, saying it was "a rip-off. One needed a magnifying glass to see what was on the plates. Actually, no flowers, no candles, waiters dressed as monks. We knew we were in trouble when the waiter himself warned us about the food portions PRIOR to ordering!"

I can see her point. The decor is minimal, portions are indeed small, and prices are high. However, Lee offers an exciting and unique point of view. He has a clear vision, which should become even more refined as he settles into the space.

Diners are free to accept or reject it. It's a similar argument that hounds just about every cutting-edge artist. One person might love the abstract work of Mark Rothko, while another will think it borders on trash. But that kind of controversy should be expected when food becomes art.

The wine list

Few restaurants can boast such an interesting, inventive and well-curated wine list as Benu. It's a special collection that dovetails with the complex, meticulously crafted dishes created by Corey Lee.

Sommeliers Yoon Ha and Michael Ireland are at the top of their game. In the introduction to the list, which contains about 450 wines, they write, "Our list focuses on wines of balance that express the grape and a sense of place before winemaking style. It's a philosophy that also speaks of the food."

Before joining Benu, Ha was at Le Toque in Napa, where I enjoyed some of the best pairings of my career; he's shown that ability again in crafting selections for Benu's 12-course tasting menu. Ireland was at the French Laundry and Quince before joining the team. Individually, they are impressive; together, they are unbeatable.

This list contains some favorite labels and some wines that will be unfamiliar to most people. Nearly 40 half bottles are offered, along with 16 wines by the glass, plus nine dessert wines and eight sakes. However, I'd read the list for pleasure, then close it and let Ha or Ireland take charge.

Matching wine to Lee's food is a challenge and they meet it almost every time. For example, with a geoduck paired with briny seaweed and a raspberry and bonito vinegar, Ha perfectly matched the 2006 Horst Sauer Escherndorfer Lump Trocken Silvaner, which had enough acid and a hint of sweetness to balance the dish.

With the rich "shark's fin" soup with ham and a black truffle custard, Ha wisely went for the 1968 Blandy's Verdelho Madeira, where the rich caramelized flavors matched but didn't overpower the soup. Monkfish liver torchon had the character of foie gras but with fishy overtones; he chose a German Spatlese Riesling. On pairing after pairing, the staff nailed the matches.

Given the inventory and care taken in storing and serving, the markups are reasonable. Prices range from $36 for a 2007 Glatzer Blaufrankisch from the Carnuntum of Austria to $3,750 for 2004 Screaming Eagle from Napa. If you bring your own wine, corkage is $40.